


One Week of Dating

by Pyou



Series: 7 days [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Funny, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyou/pseuds/Pyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a perfect plan to fall in love. His parents don't really agree. What will happen if John Watson suggests dating for a week while drunk and Sherlock accepts the challenge? Will Sherlock's plan really work or do they end up strangling each other in the end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Week of Dating

“Well then, lets start with a phone number,” Sherlock was saying as Mike finally emerged from bathroom, taking his direction towards John. Saying he was surprised was an understatement. And his amazement grew even bigger when he actually noticed John scribbling his number down on a paper napkin. What had he missed?

John fully understood it wasn’t something that happened every day and the thought of doing something like this made him all giddy. His smile seemed a bit too much to Mike, who just shook his head. “Oh dear, what happened?” the man asked and John just shrugged. Sherlock seemed impatient, tapping his foot. “It’s already Tuesday,” he explained, if they both turned to him. “Never has it taken two days to aquire a simple phone number.”

John let out a short laugh. It seemed that with this seven days scheme everything was supposed to happen faster. Much more faster. He handed over the napkin and was then startled by Sherlock leaning in and giving him a little peck on a cheek. With an expression that did not embody any embarassement, he went back to his table. On purpose, John avoided looking at his parents. Some of the drunk feeling had left him and he felt quite strange about what had just happened.

“And… what in the world was that?” Mike wanted to know, drinking a glass of water he had just asked for. John smiled, trying to encourage himself. “I needed to find a new date since you left me like this,” he explained, but Mike’s expression remined clouded. “This was, uh, Sherlock,” John added, as if that could help.

“Yes, I know who he is. He is… Well, I don’t know what to say actually. But he keeps bugging people, going out with a new person every week and,” he took another big gulp of water, “no one who he has been out with has nothing good to say about him.” John raised an eyebrow to that. “Well, can’t know a person before you haven’t actually met him yourself.” He said it more to convince himself than Mike. But to be honest, he was quite sure that Sherlock wouldn’t even contact him. He’d probably done it to annoy his parents. John understood completely if that was the case. He had to admit, the guy looked pretty nice with his slightly curled hair and light eyes, not to mention cheekbones and… well, everything else.

He wasn’t quite sure how he got home that night, but he suspected it had something to do with Mike. After Sherlock and his parents had left the bar, he felt quite bizarre and the only solution to this that he could think of was to drink more. It almost felt as if he was back to his college days. Well, certainly he wasn’t that much of a drunk that time, but nowdays it was rare for him to go out and get wasted like this. And it was an awful idea. His head was banging and all the lights seemed to bright, not to mention his face was swollen and everything stinked of alcohol. “Never again,” he told himself and reached for his towel. Maybe shower would make everything bearable.

As he got out of shower after almost half an hour (since he had to move slowly or he would just empty his stomach somewhere in between washing his hair and everything else), he had one message on his phone, left by an unknow number. 

“Oh,” on his lips was only a whisper when memories from the last night came surging back. It wasn’t as if he had forgotten it, he hadn’t just thought about it.

221B BAKER STREET, 2 PM – SH

It was short and really forward and strange and made John’s stomach turn again, but this time he wasn’t sure it was because of hangover. Maybe nerves? He was pretty surprised figuring out Sherlock was serious. And it would have been nice of him to tell the man in person that he hadn’t been just as serious. That was why you didn’t drink.

John glanced at his clock. He still had a few hours to kill before getting ready. He wondered if he should take something with him, only to remind himself that he wasn’t staying there long. He was just going to go, apologize for his behaviour, and come back home to do… whatever it was he did all days. ‘Finding a job,’ he reminded himself. Yes, that was important, but it had been the same for the last couple of months. He went in for an interview, everything seemed fine and then they called him and let him know they found someone younger, female or more suited for the job. John figured he really needed a distraction. Was he really just going to apologize and turn back to this tiring daily life? He could at least enjoy one dinner, couldn’t he?

He called a cab and got on it in a matter of seconds, remembering Sherlock’s address by heart. He pondered if he had ever been to that side of London, but if he had, it had probably been a while back. Before Afghanistan. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering why it suddenly made him anxious.

It took less time to get to the Baker Street than he had imagined. On the second the cab left he felt another wave of nerviousness and he wondered if he should have answered to the text. However, Sherlock was the kind of guy who seemed to be used to getting what he wanted, so hopefully everything still went smoothly.

He knocked and soon an older lady answered the door, letting John know she was called Mrs. Hudson and she was really very pleased to see him. “Sherlock’s been a bit moody this morning,” she had explained as she guided John to his flat wishing him good luck with a whisper. 

John knocked, but hearing nothing in return opened the door and coughed. Sherlock sat in front of a microscope, one finger rised. “A moment,” he said, not even looking at his guest. Well, that was something John should have expected. He patiently tried to be quiet, moving around in the living room and kitchen area, looking for something that would tell him about Sherlock. Whole flat was a bit messy but he still recognised some kind of system that made it possible to orient there. Some things, however, like a skull, made him think about Sherlock’s mental health. It wasn’t that much intimidating or plain creepy, but rather interesting, as he discovered.

“Good, you are here.” Sherlock was finally paying attention to him, wiping his hands to a kitchen towel. “Some tea?” he offered and when John nodded, went to put the kettle on. “I’m afraid I don’t really have anything else.” John waved his hand and after a minute of observing the guy sat down to one of the armchairs. It was quite nice all in all, and Sherlock’s personality remained quite exciting as well.

“So…” John started, but Sherlock was already moving towards him, phone in his hand. He popped down to another armchair and finally looked at him. “I have a list of activities we need to go through,” he said, observing. He had figured out already most of John, only few things remining a bit hazy. Not forever, though. “Phone number, having a drink, goodnight kiss – all done,” he said in a bit of a bored voice and John rised an eyebrow. “Sorry, what?” he couldn’t help but to ask. Sherlock just shook his head a little, going over the list of things quitely now. “Never mind,” he said if John didn’t lose the expression of wonder. “Well, it’s a list of most popular activities during dating,” he still said after a while. “As that’s what we’re doing.”

John was about to say something about it but thought the better of it. “Well, who… do you work as?” he asked instead. Sherlock nodded approvingly. “Getting to know each other,” he mumbled and turned to face the man. “I am a consulting detective,” he answered and when John didn’t reply, added, “and you are looking for a job, I assume.” John nodded slowly. His work title seemed a bit strange but seeing the man was good at reading people, it did make some sense, he had to admit.

They talked for about an hour, Sherlock getting caught up in his work, talking about different brands of tobacco and how to recognise it from ash, how to say how tall someone was from their footprint and so on. John soon discovered he had nothing against listening and it was honestly quite nice. He could observe Sherlock in his own, unprofessional way, also. After finishing second cup of tea Sherlock suggested going for a walk, checking his phone before that. John wished he hadn’t done it, surprising himself.

They walked outside, Mrs. Huddson waving at them enthusiastically. John managed to put in a question about her, only to receive a pretty terrifying answer about her husband’s death penalty and didn’t poke around the topic anymore. They walked towards a park that wasn’t too far and the weather was nice. It had been quite some time John went somewhere without needing to hurry or worry about some job interview. And all this time Sherlock kept talking about seemingly random but interesting things.

“How did your parents react to last night?” John finally asked when Sherlock had stopped to take a look around, possibly trying to figure out what they could do except for just walking around. Their pace had grown faster and faster so John was quite thankful for this. “Oh, them? They were quite pleased with me but still suggested the online dating thing as well.” Even if John was surprised, his face didn’t show it. At least it was certain Mrs. and Mr. Holmes were all in if it was about their son finding someone.

Suddenly Sherlock hold out his hand. “Do you mind if I…?” he started and John shuffled awkwardly. “Uh,” he managed, “well…” Sherlock didn’t let him finish and took his hand to his own. That was so odd it felt funny and John let out a little laugh. Had someone told him a week ago he was walking around in a park holding hands with a handsome male detective, he would have had a laughing fit. But now this had became reality.

They had ice cream – oh so cheesy – and fed some ducks, before Sherlock announced he needed to go by Scotland Yard and wished him goodbye with another kiss on a cheek.

When John got home, he felt flattered and confused.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to continue it after all and I seriously hope I'm not going to mess it up! Thanks for being so supportive!


End file.
